


all we do is hurt each other

by duaa



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [19]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit Sanders is a Good Friend, M/M, Makeup, Not A Happy Ending, Pining, badthingshappenbingo, basically - virgil loves the light sides, dont let them see you cry, is the emphasis on the prompt? no. is it good nonetheless? yes, mentions of nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duaa/pseuds/duaa
Summary: Virgil is deeply and madly in love with the others. They... do not seem to be.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707997
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	all we do is hurt each other

_Logan leaned in, Virgil could feel like breath on his cheek. He turned his face, closing those pesky centimetres and pressing their lips together. Logan's hands were tangled in his hair, tugging gently. Somebody else's hand pressed against his back, making him turn around. Roman smirked at him, cupping his cheek. He -_

See, the problem here was that Virgil, for all his panicking and pacing and freaking the _fuck_ out, was a major masochist. He loved to inflict himself with pain. Which is why he kept on dreaming about things that would never, ever, ever happen. Exhibit A, how he just dreamt of kissing Logan and Roman, and he would have gone on to Patton, too, had he not stopped. Exhibit B, how he always stole glances at them. Exhibit C, his general existence around the light sides. Why would someone insistently hang around a romantic trio, an awkward fourth wheel, making sure he saw everything they did and just generally feeling miserable. Well, the only acceptable answer was masochism, he liked torturing himself.

It was fine when they hadn't accepted him. It was fine when they hated him. It was better because they hadn't told him they were all dating. So he had nothing for long for, except their general company. Then he got that. And knowledge of the fact that the three were desperately in love with each other. And happy. He had hoped, at first, dreamt of a land where they went from platonic liking to romantic liking. Yeah, that wasn't ever happening for sure. He would never be on the receiving end of Patton's warm hugs or butterfly kisses that he knew would make him laugh because of how ticklish he was. He would never be on the receiving end of Roman's long, poetic speeches about how perfect and lovely and amazing he was. He would never be on the receiving end of Logan's passionate (if not ill-timed) kisses that tended to last long enough to make Virgil wonder how they could hold their breath for so long. 

Instead, he had the privilege of standing in the shadows, a part of the audience. The movie nights that ended in cuddles and sleepovers. The warmth of each other, loving, caring - he was in eternal hell. Thomas would find someone, and then Virgil would be even lonelier than he ever was. Valentines day was the worst. Patton baked all these delicious things, Logan wrote the most beautiful poetry, Roman did the most spectacular things and organised such fantastic dates. And sure, let's imagine Virgil actually was a part of them (because he loved imagining these things and subsequently feeling like dog-shit), what would he do? What does he bring to the table? He exists. That's all he does. He can physically sing, but won't. He doesn't dance, doesn't bake or cook or write poetry. He isn't outgoing and romantic. All he did was exist. All he did was pine, hopelessly. 

Well, pining was better than one thing. One thing he thought he would never have to do. One thing he thought only happened in media. 

Helping them. 

Except in media he should technically be getting the guys. But, ohohoho no, this was not media. This wasn't fanfiction. This was Virgil's torturous nightmare - he had to help them. Not just one person, no, all three of them came to his door, hopeful eyes and hearts full of love he would never get. Logan wanted someone to go over his writing, 'you are exceptionally great at finding flaws or inconsistencies', and well, how could he say no to him. He couldn't say no to Roman who wanted his help at doing his makeup, 'Virgil I have to slay and you understand better than anyone else!'. He couldn't say no to Patton who needed his help for cooking, 'puh-lease kiddo!'. He also wished Patton would stop calling him kiddo. Friend was better than _child_. 

So he helped them. He sat with Logan on his too small bed, with their thighs touching and Logan's elbow brushing against his side. Logan got a little ink on his cheek and Virgil almost had an aneurysm because of how adorable he looked. He read through his pristine writing, perfect in every way possible. He lingered on every word, hanging onto every 'i' he dotted and every 't' he crossed. Logan thanked him profusely, squeezing his shoulder and Virgil had to pretend that it didn't shoot electricity through him, tingling and burning. He watched as Logan left his room, curling up on his bed. He wasn't worth all that. 

He helped Roman, feeling Roman's breath on his wrist as he did his eyeliner. He crowded the bathroom with him, watching as Roman hopped onto the counter with ease, wondering if he ever did that before. He couldn't help but stare, trying his best to maintain his composure. Roman hummed a song and Virgil's heart skipped a beat, making his breath hitch. Roman showed him what he was going to wear and Virgil tried not to look, trying to keep images out of his head. Roman thanked him profusely, posing in the mirror. If Virgil had been anyone with the right to say as such, he would've told Roman that he looked way, way better without the makeup. Not that he didn't look good, it was impossible for Roman to look _bad_. 

Then he helped Patton, which was strangely fine for Virgil because it wasn't exactly an intimate thing. Well, it sort of was, it just wasn't as intimate as the others' - until he began to talk. Chattering endlessly about how cute Roman looked when they complimented his work, or how hot Logan looked when he woke up in the morning. How much he loved them. Virgil was dying inside, ears hot red. He went on and on, the pastries were in the oven and he was still talking. 

Which is how he found himself in the kitchen, the day after Valentine's day, when he had deemed it safe to exist in their common areas. Janus was passing by, he was on much better terms with everyone now. Roman said something about his art being useless and in an instant, Logan and Patton were at his side; 'absolutely not, that is nonsense!' and 'oh roman, my love that is so not true!'. He looked on, fond at their antics. Roman turned his head, and Virgil panicked, if Roman saw him like that - so in turn, he looked at Janus, who raised an eyebrow. 

"Aha!" He exclaimed, making everyone jump. "You like Dec - uh - Janus! I called it!" 

And in that moment, Virgil experienced death. He experienced what it was like to have your soul crushed, spat on, and tossed aside. "W-what?" 

"Yeah, all those weird, sappy looks you kept giving us - you missed Janus and were thinking of him!" Patton chimed in, as Logan nodded. 

They thought... 

On autopilot, he stepped beside Janus; who, thank FUCK, was playing along; wrapped an arm around his waist. "Haha, you... eh, you guys caught me." He wanted to die, right then, right there. 

"Aw, I'm so glad! I thought you liked us and hooo boy, would that have been weird!" He needed to leave. Now.

"Yeah. Um, anyways, I'm gonna go." Stringing Janus along, he marched up to his room, Roman's whistles boring into his soul. Janus let go of him as soon as they were out of site, pulling away. 

"Virgil, that... sucks. I'm sorry." He frantically wiped away his tears, trying not to sob. "I'll leave you alone now."

"Sorry - I, bye." He shut his door, sinking to the ground.


End file.
